New York Moonlight
by ImaSupernaturalCSI
Summary: Full moons bring out the crazy people...they're just a little crazier in New York. Okay, it's a rogue supernatural hunter hell-bent on destruction. Who better to stop a supernatural killer than two hunters, two vampires and our favorite team? Fiesta, DL
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So I'm back after a slight hiatus. I'm really excited about this project. This is part of my series, I guess (the rest of which is listed in my profile), it's like a direct sequel to "It's About Time!" You might want to go read some of the stories in that one (I recommend "Darkness Falls" as a jump-off point. But I won't give much away about this one aside from the disclaimer-**

**Disclaimer**: The characters of "CSI:NY" belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. The characters of "Supernatural" and the "Metallicar" are property of Eric Kripke and The WB. "Mick St. John", "Josef Kostan," and the characters of "Moonlight," belong to Ron Koslow, Trevor Munson and CBS.

* * *

**Chapter One: Oddities**

**_301 Waverly Place_**

**_New York City, NY_**

He sat on the bed next to her, watching her. Every now and then, he would reach over and gently remove a stray piece of her auburn hair that fell over her pale face. The only sounds in the room where her gentle breathing and the low hum of the equipment keeping her alive.

That had been keeping her alive for the past fifty years.

He closed his eyes, remembering her back then. Back when she was more alive than dead, when her eyes lit up when she laughed, when her cheeks would flush as the his teasing would make her blush. The look of delight in her eyes the day he had given her the heart-shaped locket he now kept in his vest pocket.

Every now and then he would whisper, "I'm sorry, Sarah," or "I love you, Sarah."

Sometimes he wondered if when she woke up, if she would remember him the same way he remembered everything about her.

She would recognize him, that was certain. He hadn't aged in fifty years.

Technically speaking, he hadn't aged in 400 years.

He reached across the bed, grasped her warm hand with his ice-cold one. He ran his fingers over hers. Every time he did, he wished she would return the gesture. He wished she would wake up.

He wished a lot of things, when it came to her.

The sound of the front door opening two rooms away caught his ear. He assumed it was Paula, the housekeeper.

Except the footfalls coming toward the room didn't match hers.

He could hear a heartbeat- steady...strong. Paula always seemed to flutter when she was around him, as if she could tell there was more to him than met the eye. She'd been working for him for five years...all the longer someone could work for him before realizing that he never aged. Reluctantly, he released Sarah's hand, let it rest gently on her stomach. He stood up, every sense in tune with the space around him.

He wouldn't let whoever this was anywhere near Sarah. He got up off the bed, making his way toward the door. The heartbeat on the other side was getting louder. The intruder must have been close.

He opened the door. Someone was standing in the room. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded with a low growl. The tone he used usually sent most of his staff running in the other direction. A small part of him was confused. No one knew about this place. No one knew what lay in the other room. No one in this city knew about him. No one but Paula...and Sarah.

And yet the way the intruder carried himself, the way he stared him down with no fear in his eyes, his posture, or his heartbeat...the way he said, "Someone who knows what you _really_ are," as he raised the gun...suggested that perhaps he hadn't hid his secrets as well as he thought he had.

"Bullets won't stop me. You're only gonna piss me off," he hissed at the intruder. "Not that you haven't already by breaking and entering."

The intruder fired anyway. Two slugs tore into his chest, one just below his ribs, the other just above his heart. He snarled in pain, realizing these weren't your average, everyday nine millimeter shells.

"These bullets will."

He could feel it entering his system the way most people could feel a bad cold virus coming on- slow, but deliberate. It hurt like _hell_. And before he could muster enough strength to counterattack, the intruder was two steps from him, with something in his hand. "Go to _hell_," the intruder said to him, bringing the wooden stake above his head-

He snarled, coming at the intruder in a last-ditch attempt-

-and the intruder slammed the wooden stake into his heart.

He collapsed to the floor, his eyes staring, but not dead.

The intruder knelt over him, pulled a long, silver blade from his coat.

_One quick hack, that's all it'll take_. Somehow, he never imagined going out like this. He thought of the woman in the room next door._ Sarah...I love you_.

The front door opened. "Mr. Kostan?" Paula called.

The intruder jerked, not expecting someone. "I'm not finished with you," he whispered. He got up, disappeared through Sarah's bedroom.

From the floor, he could hear Paula come to investigate, heard her scream when she found him on the floor. She came over to him, panicking and crying. _Not me...go..._ Paula ran into Sarah's bedroom. He could hear a low, monotone drone from one of the machines.

_No! Nonono...Sarah...no_...

He heard Paula dial 911-he must have left his cell on the night table. _This is not good. This is so very not good._ He also heard her find the number for his only emergency contact, and dial long distance to Los Angeles.

* * *

**One half hour later...**

There was something peculiar about this whole situation.

Dr. Sheldon Hawkes donned a pair of latex gloves and surveyed the room one last time. Something just didn't seem right. He sat his crime scene kit on the floor. "Hey, Angell," he said. "What happened here?"

Detective Jessica Angell flipped her notebook open. "According to the housekeeper, Paula Sanchez," she said, jerking a thumb at the woman, "she came back from shopping, found him on the floor with the stake through his heart."

"What's with the medical equipment in the next room?" Hawkes recognized all the pieces of machinery. They were designed for life support, for keeping someone alive for the foreseeable future.

"Paula says that a woman named Sarah Whitley was on life support in that room."

"Odd," Hawkes said, "Not too many people have the kind of cash to keep someone on life support in a hospital, let alone their own home."

"Apparently, Mr. Josef Kostan-the dead body?" Lindsay Monroe informed him as she came into the room. "He's got that kind of cash. Like, Tom Cruise gets his own ultrasound machine kind of cash."

Hawkes studied the body. "So we've got two questions to answer," he said. "One-who is Sarah Whitley, and why was she on life support in that bedroom? And two-" here he gestured to the body of Josef Kostan, "Who kills someone with a wooden stake?"

Lindsay snapped pictures of the body, focusing on the wound. "That's three questions," she couldn't resist.

Hawkes shook his head. "You're certainly at a lot more chipper since you got married," he told her.

Lindsay glanced at the wedding band on her hand and smiled. "Yeah," she admitted. "Things are a lot happier these days," she said. "You know, it's a full moon tonight," she noted. "People say the crazies come out when the moon is full."

"This is New York City, Linds," Hawkes pointed out with a smile. "The crazies are out all the time." _Except this one might be a little crazier than our usual...could be an interesting couple of days._

* * *

Danny Messer turned over in his sleep. He had just come off the night shift, and was looking forward to a couple hours of shut eye before his wife came home from work.

But sleep wasn't coming.

* * *

_He was following Lindsay and another man, walking down the street in the middle of the night. _("Not that these things would ever happen in the _daylight_, he thought to himself.) _He tailed behind them, keeping his wife directly in his sights. As they rounded a corner, he bumped into someone, a crowd of giggling girls. By the time he pushed through them, rounded the corner himself...everything had gone from a calm night to chaos. Lindsay and the other man were frozen in the alley, facing a man with a crossbow _(Who the hell uses a crossbow?) _which was loaded and aimed directly at the man's heart. "You're one of them_,_" he hissed. Without warning, he fired, and the man fell to the ground, the bolt sticking from his chest. And then the crossbow-wielding man turned to Lindsay. "You both are_," _he said, and fired at her..._

* * *

Danny's eyes snapped open.

_It's happening again_.

* * *

**Author's Note II**: Criticism is usually warranted, and most always appreciated. I know vampires have been done a thousand times over (Thanks, "Twilight", lol) but I started a story a while back with Mick and Josef and lost my muse, so now they're back. This story's for Michaela Martin, who's been bugging me to write again about two certain supernatural hunters, who shall remain nameless...for now...


	2. Screwed

CHAPTER TWO

**LaGuardia Airport**

"So do we have any idea where they're at?" He stepped off the plane, throwing on a pair of sunglasses with his free hand as he adjusted the cell phone next to his ear. "She's where? Queen of Mercy, got it."

The sun was bright. He put a hand up to his face, already feeling dizzy. "Yeah, okay. And he's where?..._Where?_ Yeah...okay." He hung up, and met the car. "Change of plans. I need to get to the medical examiner's office." He got into the back of the Bentley.

"The morgue, sir?" the driver asked him.

He nodded. "I need to go pick up a friend."

* * *

Dr. Sid Hammerback had seen a lot of unusual things in four thousand some-odd cases.

But this was a first.

"Upon first examination," he explained to Hawkes, "I assume you noticed the large lack of blood or injury to his body."

Hawkes nodded. "I knew something seemed out of place at that crime scene."

"The only visible wound is the stab wound to the chest," Sid said, clicking his glasses together. "However, when I pulled the stake from the wound..."

Hawkes could see it before Sid explained. "There's no wound, no entry hole." Hawkes looked up at Sid in confusion.

"Precisely," Sid said. "It healed over in a matter of seconds."

"So our vic has...what, some kind of super healing condition?"

"Never mind the fact that something like that shouldn't be functioning, considering he's deceased. I took some blood and send it up to DNA. I'm curious to know what Adam finds on it." Sid said.

"This whole thing is weird. You heard about the woman on life support, didn't you?"

"I did," Sid admitted. "I find this whole situation quite fascina-excuse me, sir, you can't be in here."

The gentleman who came into Autopsy was tall, with long brown hair. He was very pale with blue eyes. He was wearing a long black duster, blue jeans and a maroon t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," he apologized easily. "I was supposed to meet a friend here in New York...they told me at his place he'd been attacked." He looked down at the body on the metal table with a wistful look. "I wish I'd gotten here sooner."

"Sir, who are you?" Hawkes demanded.

"Sorry," he apologized again. He offered a hand. Hawkes took it, shivered at his cold grip. Then, that may have been the room temperature. "I'm Mick St. John. Josef Kostan is an old friend."

"We'd like to talk to you about your friend, if you have time," Hawkes said.

Mick nodded. "Sure, of course. Whatever I can do to help you find the guy that did this."

"Did Mr. Kostan have a lot of enemies?"

Mick smiled at an old memory. "More enemies than friends," he admitted. "Look, there was a woman at the house. Josef's sister."

"She is currently at Queen of Mercy, we have one of our detectives there processing her." _His sister...with a different last name? No sign of a wedding band._

"Is Sarah alive?"

Hawkes nodded. "They managed to get her back on life support, before too much damage was done."

Mick's phone rang, interrupting. Mick looked at the caller ID. "Gentlemen, if you'd excuse me. I need to take this one. Finish with your autopsy, I'd like to know what you know."

"Sir, unless you're next of kin-" Sid began, but Mick held up a hand as he answered his phone.

"I'm a private investigator in Los Angeles." He looked at the two doctors. "Please. I'd like to know what you know. I might be able to help."

He left the room before Hawkes could say anything. "Might be a good idea to let Mac know about that Mick St. John fellow," Sid told Hawkes.

Hawkes nodded. Yes, Mac would definitely want to know about this.

* * *

**Queen of Mercy Hospital**

**Room 414**

"What can you tell me about Sarah Whitley?" Stella Bonasera asked Dr. Daniels.

The young doctor pushed his glasses up on his nose before consulting the woman's chart. "Miss Whitley has been in a coma, it appears, for quite some time."

"How long are we talking?" Stella asked.

"Based on a preliminary examination-" the doctor said, sounding as if he couldn't quite believe it himself- "about fifty years."

Stella's jaw dropped. "Fifty _years_?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Stella looked at the young woman..._young_ being the operative word. For someone who should have been seventy or eighty...well, Sarah Whitley didn't look any older than about _thirty_.

"Do you know what caused it?"

The doctor nodded. "We think so." He led her over to the woman, who for all rights and purposes just looked asleep, and gestured to her neck. "See the two puncture holes, there?"

Stella nodded.

"We ran some of her blood downstairs. Her blood contains an unusual toxin, one I've never seen before."

"You think whatever it was got in through those holes?"

The doctor nodded. "We haven't been able to identify it as of yet, though we rushed a sample to the CDC in Atlanta once we discovered it."

"This toxin...it put her in the coma?"

The doctor shrugged. "We don't know. I find it remarkable that it somehow has kept her from aging the past fifty years. It's nothing like I've ever seen before."

He looked up. "Sir, can I help you?"

Stella followed his gaze to the door. A young man, looked to be about thirty, was standing in the doorframe. He had curly brown hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a long black coat. "Yes, you can. My name is Mick St. John; Josef Kostan was a friend of mine. They told me I could find his sister Sarah here." He looked at Sarah Whitley, a sad look on his face. "Is she going to be all right?"

"Well, she's still in the coma, if that's what you mean," Dr. Daniels replied. "But her vitals are all strong."

He let out a breath. "Good. Good, that's good."

"Sir, I'd like to ask you a couple of questions about Miss Whitley," Stella cut in. He looked at her, deciding.

"Sure. Anything you want to know," he said. "Do you mind if I have a few moments with her?"

"Yes, of course," Stella said, then realized she'd just spoken for herself and the doctor. She looked at Dr. Daniels, who nodded his agreement. The two left the room.

Stella's phone sounded in the hall. "Thank you, Dr. Daniels. Bonasera," she answered the phone. "Mac. No, I just got done...I'm waiting for a friend of Sarah Whitley's brother to come out here so I can ask him some questions...He said his name was Mick St. John."

"Mick St. John?" a voice asked, but it wasn't Mac's.

* * *

**Crime Lab**

Sheldon Hawkes had just stepped into Mac Taylor's office when he heard a familiar name come from the speaker phone. "Mick St. John?" he asked aloud.

Mac turned to him. "You know him?"

Hawkes nodded. "Yeah, well, sort of. He was down in the morgue talkin' to Sid and I. He's a friend of Josef Kostan's- our vic? He was supposed to meet him here in the city today." He looked at Mac. "Told us he was a private investigator in Los Angeles."

"This Mick St. John is turning up everywhere when it comes to this case. I don't like it," Mac said aloud to the two of them. "Stella, find out exactly what he's doing here in New York. If he knows something, I want to know what he knows."

"And if he doesn't know anything?"

"I don't believe in coincidence. He's here and it's connected to our case, and I don't think he's just here to visit a friend."

"Mac, I'm putting a uni outside Sarah Whitley's door, just in case that guy tries to come back," Stella said. "And then I'm going to go talk to Mick St. John."

* * *

**Queen of Mercy Hospital**

Stella hung up on Mac and Hawkes, and explained the plan to the doctor in charge. Then she headed into the hallway...where there was no sign of Mick St. John.

* * *

**New York Medical Examiner's Office**

**Later that night**

The morgue was dark and silent. Normally, that would seem like a bad joke, but what it really meant was that Dr. Sid Hammerback and his staff had done their duty for the day and done it well. It also meant that at least for the mment, the City That Never Sleeps was temporarily snoozing.

The door handle jiggled a few times, shattering the silence. There was a metallic scraping at the lock- one of the last departments where you were issues a key instead of a key card. Finally, the door slid open and someone stepped into the room. The hum of the computers and the lights from recharging surgical instruments were now intermingled with the sound of a pair of tennis shoes scraping across the tile. The intruder made his way over to the tall built-in coolers and stopped. He listened again for the faint tapping coming from the drawers that only he could hear. Finally pinpointing which drawer, he popped the drawer open. It slid open with a hiss and a metallic roll.

Josef Kostan's eyes stared up at his best friend. Then he propped himself up on one elbow and glared at Mick St. John ."'Finish with your autopsy'?" he demanded.

Mick grinned. "Oh, suck it up," he said. "At least you managed to get some sleep outta the deal. I've been up for twenty hours straight, was working a homicide with Beth when you called."

"Well, we are royally screwed," Josef said as he sat up. "Not a single vamp on this morgue staff to cover the fact that I kept healing during the part where the doc was supposed to be slicing me to mention the fact that my _blood _is in the system somewhere now." Mick handed Josef a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. Josef eyed them warily. "These are _so_ from the back of your closet," Josef said.

"Your clothes are in an evidence locker," Mick pointed out. "It's bad enough I'm stealing a body. I'm not adding evidence to the list."

"This day just sucked," Josef proclaimed as he got dressed. He'd just zipped the jeans when he thought of something. "Mick...Sarah?"

"She's fine," Mick replied. "She's at Queen of Mercy. Back on life support. Although...the doctor there did notice that she hasn't aged in fifty years. He's chalking it up to a foreign antibody in her blood."

"The venom. Aw, hell. Damn it, call Ryan, tell him to get my guys out here. Someone's got to break into the lab, get my blood sample, someone's gotta get any workup they did on Sarah...We can get Sarah on a jet back to LA, skip town before the damned CSIs figure anything _else_ out."

Mick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. As if the fact that you healed on the autopsy table, got _staked_ through the _heart_ and the fact that Sarah hasn't aged isn't enough to figure it out already." He looked at Josef in confusion. "You don't want to stay, find out who did this to the two of you?"

"No," Josef said flatly. "I want to get Sarah and me the hell out of Dodge. That's your job." He hopped off the drawer and into a pair of borrowed tennis shoes. "God, does this outfit clash," he griped.

"Next time I'll remember the three-piece suit," Mick groaned. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

They'd just gone out the doors and were headed down the sidewalk to hail a cab when someone stepped out of the Chinese restaurant across the street, a carton of fried rice and egg rolls in her hand. Someone Josef recognized from the house earlier that day, remembered looking at her through unseeing eyes.

Detective Jessica Angell's jaw dropped. And then, the shock wore off and she drew her gun. "Hold it!" she yelled. "Don't move!"

Josef and Mick took off at a run. Angell sprinted after them.

"Josef, we're goin' up," Mick said as they skidded into an alley.

"Damn it...remember what happened _last _time-"

"No choice."

"We could just snap her neck and-"

"And have the entire NYPD on our asses? No way," Mick said, and jumped...eight stories onto the rooftop.

Josef looked up. He looked back, saw the detective bearing down on them. "Aw, hell," he said, for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, and leapt.

Jessica Angell saw them. Couldn't believe what she'd just seen, but saw them.


	3. Of New Arrivals and Tapping Fingers

****

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI:NY"- they belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. The characters of Sam and Dean Winchester and the "Metallicar" are property of Eric Kripke and the WB. Josef Kostan and Mick St John appear courtesy of CBS, Ron Koslow and Trevor Munson.

**Author's Note: And with that disclaimer, I just added about a hundred words to this story :)**

**CHAPTER THREE: New Arrivals and Tapping Fingers**

"St. John's records check out, he's been licensed in Los Angeles for- well, they don't have an official start date," Stella said, "but his case record is very impressive."

"So what's he doing in my city?" Mac asked.

"I don't know- and for someone so willing to cooperate, he sure disappeared in a hurry."

"He definitely knows what's going on," Mac decided.

Stella opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, Danny Messer tapped on the glass. Mac waved him in. "Find this guy?" he said to Stella. "Check with LAPD, if he's a PI he's gotta have a phone."

"I'm on it," Stella replied. She caught the look on Danny Messer's face. "Jeez, Danny, you look like hell."

"Thanks," the blonde detective sniped back.

Stella got the hint. "Okay, I'm gone." She left the office, leaving the two men alone. Mac sat down, waiting for Danny to explain himself. He looked pasty white and tired.

"It's happening again," Danny said, cutting to the point.

"The visions," Mac said. That explained Danny's demeanor and condition. "When?"

"Last night. God, I forgot how much those damn things hurt," Danny said. He sat down, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I'm on my fourth dose of Bayer this morning. Was tempted to down the bottle of Jack in my cupboard, but I know how you are about bein' sober on the job."

Mac took the joke in stride. "What did you see?"

Danny let out his breath. "Uh...Lindsay, and some other guy. Middle of the night, some random street. Ended up in an alley with a guy with a crossbow. Guy shot 'em both, said, "You're one of them. You both are."

"One of what?" Mac wondered aloud.

"The hell if I know," Danny said. "Damn it, just when we were gettin' settled."

Mac nodded. "Speaking of settled...how was your honeymoon?"

"Fine," Danny said. "Linds loved St. Kitts and Nevis. Sucked to come back up here in January, let me tell ya."

"And your apartment?"

"Slowly gettin' that 'woman's touch'," Danny responded. "And nice try tryin' to get me off-topic, but it won't work."

"It worked for a while," Mac argued. "Could you get me a sketch of this guy you saw with the crossbow?"

Danny shrugged. "Sure. Why the hell not. I can even draw you the crossbow, if you want. I don't care. I do know Lindsay's not workin' any more nights if I can help it, at least not alone," he said, with a raised eyebrow at Mac.

"I'll try to switch her around, but Danny, she'll want to know why."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Danny got up. "I don't care."

Mac's cell phone rang shrilly from his desk. He picked it up, frowning at the caller ID. "Taylor...whoa, Jess, slow down. You saw _what_?...When?...Okay, okay, meet you downstairs." He hung up.

Danny raised his eyebrows. "Someone broke into the morgue," Mac explained. "Stole a body. And then Angell swears she saw the body _walk_ out of the building."

Detective Don Flack poked his head into Mac's office. It was getting to be a busy place. "I might have a lead on who might've tried that, or might know somethin' about it," the blue-eyed detective said. "They're sittin' down in a holding cell."

* * *

"A speeding ticket. Are you naturally this stupid or has that come with your pending death?"

"It's New York City! Everybody drives this way."

"Apparently, _not_ everybody, seeing how we're the only ones in a cell here!"

"You need to relax. Or get laid."

A uniform came up to the door. "All right, get up."

"I've seen this movie, this is the part where we end up dead. Bring on the cover up."

The officer rolled his eyes.

"Tell me something, do you usually put guys in holding cells that get speeding tickets?"

"Only the guys that are in the system for murder. Now hands behind your back." He cuffed the two of them and pushed them down the hall towards Interrogation. He opened the door and the two of them sat down. They looked up as the door opened, and two detectives came into the room.

"Son of a bitch."

* * *

Flack looked across the table, then to Mac. "These two look familiar to you?"

Mac shook his head. "If it isn't the Winchester brothers."

Dean Winchester grinned. "We make it a point if we're in the city to stop by, check out your precinct for roach problems," he said with a lopsided grin.

"Sense of humor hasn't changed much," Flack noted.

"And you're still too damn serious," Dean shrugged.

"You ever find the Loch Hudson Monster?" Flack asked with a grin.

"No. Every picture got nothin' but a splash and a ripple mark," Sam said. "All he got was cold and wet."

Flack had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "Seems like every time you end up in my city, strange freakin' stuff happens."

"Strange freakin' stuff happens here every day, Magnum PI, just gets a little stranger and then we gotta come save your asses."

"Dean," Sam Winchester interrupted. Dean looked at his brother. "Shut up."

"So what are you _really_ doin' back in my city?" Flack asked them.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam cut him off with a glare. "Shut up," he said again, "before you get us a life sentence."

"Oh, I'd rather give ya community service," Flack shot back. "I can see the two of you now, stickin' garbage at the Central Park Zoo...giving tours to sticky-faced little kids and mucking out tiger cages-"

"No!" Dean cut in. "Hell, no. I'd rather the prison sentence."

Mac nodded. "We figured as much. Now...the reason you're in New York City is because...?"

"His name is Jonas McIntire," Sam said before his brother could say anything.

Flack made a note to have Danny run the name. "He's a hunter, like us," Sam continued. "Only he's gone off the freakin' deep end."

"He's killin' supernatural stuff," Dean added, "but he's also killed a few real people, too."

* * *

Lindsay and Danny stood down in the morgue. Sid Hammerback was entirely distraught, having never lost a body in his tenure as chief medical examiner. "The budget cuts keep us from getting a better security system, but as to why someone would want a body, it's beyond my comprehension! Actually, not entirely, there have been more than a few documented cases-"

"Sid," Lindsay spoke up. "No offense."

"Of course." He pointed to the cooler. "That was where Mr. Kostan was being housed until we could find next of kin."

"I'll process it," Danny said.

Just then, the doors rolled open and another guest was wheeled into the room. Sid looked at the Messers. "Excuse me, I need to take care of this," he said as he clicked his glasses together and went over to sign paperwork.

Lindsay ran her flashlight through the inside of the cooler shelf. "The guy was really dead, wasn't he? I mean, I was there, it wasn't like those cases where you think they're dead but there's a little life left. He was gone, Danny, he was pronounced dead at the scene!"

"Dead as a doornail," Danny agreed, dusting the handle for fingerprints and finding a couple of different sets. "Although I read the autopsy report...Josef Kostan kept healing himself through the autopsy."

Lindsay looked at her husband. "He did what?"

"Everytime they cut into him, the incision would disappear. Oh, and the bullet wounds? Sid popped those out and they healed over, too. They finally cracked his chest and had to have someone hold onto the skin on either side to keep him open long enough to-"

"Weird," Lindsay proclaimed. She looked over at Danny. Her husband looked tired, or stressed..."Hey...what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Didn't get much sleep last night," he said finally. "Must be your night shifts, they're throwin' off my clock."

"Still not used to sleeping with someone else's schedule?" Lindsay teased.

"Right, right, the schedule," Danny chuckled. "Maybe it's just you permanently in _my _bed I'm havin' trouble with."

"We could fix that, you've got a really nice pool table," Lindsay said. "I'm sure you could find it comfortable for a few nights while we test that out."

"Ouch, Montana. We ain't even been married four months and you're talkin' about puttin' me out?"

"Danny," Lindsay said. "Look at this." She aimed her flashlight on the metal slide-out drawer. Glinting in the light were a couple of fingerprints. "Now, from here, they all look like the same print, they've got that little hook right there. But see how it moves a little, right in that same spot on the drawer?" She expertly collected the print and put it in an evidence bag to run upstairs.

Danny frowned. "It looks like someone was tapping their finger there, like this-" he said. He demonstrated on the drawer next to them, his finger never quite hit the same mark as he tapped it in place.

Lindsay looked at him. "How does a dead guy tap his fingers?"


	4. Exposed

**Author's Note: Grazi, grazi grazi for all the reviews. Here is Chapter Four, and as a refresher, you might want to go back and read a bit of "Ghost Stories"...this chapter brings back Jessica Anders, Stella's roomie, also, the second chapter of "The Last Thing I Said" would also be good.**

**CHAPTER FOUR: Exposed**

Mick was sure the New York City Crime Lab was completely lost in the turn of events- enough so that they would surely keep an eye out for him everywhere. He'd wanted to stay and talk to the woman at the hospital, but at the last second realized if he was going to bust Josef out, there were a few things he was going to need, so he'd quietly disappeared, but not before catching the rest of the conversation she'd had with someone back at the crime lab. Yeah, they were definitely looking for him.

And then with his and Josef's stunt that night...this whole situation, well...it _sucked_. No pun intended.

Josef barked out orders to the staff members that were carefully loading his Sarah into his private jet to take her back to Los Angeles. She would stay in one of Josef's several extra bedrooms. And he'd called his and Mick's friend Guillermo to keep an eye on her on when she got back. Josef released the arm of Jenessa, one of his favorite snacks, and she swayed a little in place from the blood loss...but the bite marks on her arm disappeared quickly. She leaned against the private jet's stairs for som support.

"All right, she's on." Josef looked at Mick. "You could still come with, we haven't left yet. Leave them dazed and confused in typical human fashion while we disappear like the creatures of legend," he said with a grin.

Mick shook his head. "No, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to figure out who tried to kill the two of you, y'know, if that's okay with you."

Josef shrugged. "No, please do," he said. "And then make sure I'm formally introduced to them," he added, letting his canine teeth grow just a hair longer and pointier.

"I'll be sure to do that," Mick said. Meaning, _No, don't think so_.

Josef turned in the early morning light to get on the plane.

Then Mick heard it. Faint, but the unmistakable sound of a crossbow bolt being put into place.

Josef froze on the steps...hearing the same heartbeat he'd heard the previous day. He turned, locked eyes with Mick. "Take off!" Josef yelled into the plane, before leaping off the steps and coming to a stop next to Mick. "He's here," he growled over the roar of the jet engine. The plane began taxiing down the runway, not even bothering to lift the stairs.

"I know," Mick replied. "Why aren't you getting-"

"This guy's not gettin' the best of me twice in two days," Josef replied, low and determined.

Mick saw a brush of color. "There!" With one move, he was across the tarmac, next to a luggage train. Something whizzed by his head, missing him by millimeters. But the person hunting them, whoever it was, was gone.

It was then that Josef looked back, and saw that one of his staffers...Jenessa..one of his favorites...lay on the asphalt behind them, eyes staring, a silver bolt sticking from her stomach.

Mick looked at Josef. Josef looked down at his freshie. "This guy either doesn't know the difference between vampires or humans...or he just doesn't _care_," Mick said. Suddenly there was shouting, and airport personnel came running toward them. There was no way Mick and Josef were getting out of there discreetly.

"Damn it." Josef threw his hands in the air. "Call the NYPD...but _you're_ explaining this one."

* * *

When Detective Jessica Angell arrived at JFK Airport and stepped onto the tarmac, with Sheldon Hawkes and Stella Bonasera on her heels, she just about fell over. Her jaw hit the pavement as she stared at the two people waiting there for them.

So did Hawkes. For Josef Kostan was standing before them, alive and well.

At least...as far as they knew.

"Mick St John," Stella noted. "You owe me some answers."

"That I do," Mick agreed seriously. "Sorry for taking off on you earlier."

Hawkes and Angell couldn't stop staring at Josef Kostan.

The vampire raised an eyebrow. "Do ya mind?"

"You're dead," Hawkes said flatly.

Josef shrugged. "I can see why they made you a CSI- you're sharp."

Angell finally spoke, "How-"

Mick winced as sunlight filtered over the top of the building. "Can we take this inside, please?" he suggested. Next to him, Josef hissed and put his sunglasses on, holding one hand over his eyes. "We don't do well in sunlight."

Stella nodded. "Let's go downtown, shall we?"

"Good a place as any," Mick agreed, all the while wondering why these people were so damned _calm_.

* * *

The eighteen year old that stepped into the lab looked around nervously. Jessica Anders felt like she shouldn't be there. Even though she knew just about everyone there, through her roommate.

It didn't help that the last time she'd been here she had been accused of leaving her boyfriend and his sister to die in an abandoned mental hospital. Jessica shifted from one foot to the other. She cleared her throat as a passing lab tech came by. "Excuse me?"

The guy jerked. "Oh! I, dyuh...uh...sorry."

"I'm trying to find Stella Bonasera's office?" Jessica said. "Could you point me in the right direction?"

"I...yeah, I'm actually...I'm headed that way." He seemed very flustered by her presence. "I'll...well, I'll take you there."

"Thanks," Jessica said with a smile. She studied the man. He was younger, maybe no older than 25. He had curly brown hair and green eyes. He was wearing a white lab coat over an AC/DC t-shirt, jeans and Converse sneakers. _He's cute_, Jessica noted as she walked with him. They stopped in front of an office. Jessica recognized Stella's spider plant near the window. "This is it," the lab tech announced.

They both moved to go into the space at the same time. It went on like a Three Stooges marathon for a moment, until finally, Jessica slipped into the office. She smiled. "Ta da," she offered.

His ears turned bright red, and Jessica couldn't help but chuckle. He tossed a manila folder into Stella's inbox. "Okay...well, uh, guess I'll see you," he said.

Jessica shook her head. "I'm Jessica," she said, offering her hand.

He looked at it for a moment, then shook it. "Adam," he said.

"Hey, Jess!"

Jessica looked up to see Flack coming down the hall. She grinned. "Hey!"

"What are you doing up here?" he asked her.

"Stella and I have an appointment to go look at bridesmaid dresses," Jessica responded. "What are _you_ doing up here?"

"Looking for my fiancée," he replied.

"Stella's out on a case with Angell," Adam told Flack. "They should be back here pretty quick."

"You think anybody'd mind if I just hung around up here?" Jessica asked.

"No way, kid, you're always welcome here," Danny Messer replied as he and Lindsay joined the group.

"Which dress are we looking at?" Lindsay asked the teen. Jessica pulled out a bridal magazine, and the two girls immediately started thumbing through it, ignoring the men completely.

Flack, Danny and Adam all shrugged. "Women," Danny said. "Especially married ones." He grinned at Flack. "See what you have to look forward to in a month?"

"I heard that," Lindsay shot back without missing a beat, then said something to Jessica about flowers and hair.

"Glad I don't have this problem," Adam declared, his eyes drifting to Jessica. He turned to Danny. "Do you have some stuff for me to run?"

"Yeah," Danny said, handing over the evidence bags. "Fingerprints. Did we get anything back on the bullets in our undead vic?"

"Traces of silver," Adam replied. He shivered. "Silver...stakes...you don't think-"

Flack thought of the Winchester brothers sitting downstairs. "Let's not jump to the supernatural conclusion," he said. "Maybe there's a rational explanation."

His cell phone rang. His brow furrowed in confusion as he read the text from Angell. "And then again...maybe not." He turned to Danny. "If you can pry your wife away from that girly stuff for a second...you two might want to come downstairs and check this out."


	5. Sightseeing and Seeing Things

**Disclaimer**: The characters of "CSI:NY" belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. The characters of "Supernatural" and the "Metallicar" are property of Eric Kripke and The WB. "Mick St. John", "Josef Kostan" and the characters of "Moonlight," belong to Ron Koslow, Trevor Munson and CBS.

**Author's Note: I've been trying to post this chapter for two days...anyone else annoyed with not being able to get in to their accounts? I hope it was worth the wait...**

**CHAPTER FIVE: Sightseeing and Seeing Things**

Dean Winchester blinked as he stepped out of the shadow of Virgin Megastore and into the sunlight in Times Square. Two girls in short shorts and NYU sweatshirts walked past them. One looked at him from the corner of her eye, then whispered to her friend. Both started giggling hysterically. Dean grinned at his brother. "Dude, we _so_ did not do enough sightseeing last time we were here!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "That'd be because _you_ spent our time either in lockup or looking for the Loch Hudson Monster."

His brother looked at him. "You've been hangin' around that NYPD mall cop too long."

"Dean, we should be trying to find Jonas," Sam replied. "That's what we agreed to with Detective Taylor- we were going to get out and do our job, and he wasn't going to keep us hangin' around the precinct."

Dean grinned. "Sammy, we _need_ to get you laid. You're too damned serious."

"No, Dean, I think I'm serious enough for the both of us!" Sam shook his head. "Look, Jonas is killing people. _Real_, flesh and blood, normal, average Joe the Plumber people."

Dean finally turned around. "I know, Sammy. But he's not going to stake anyone in broad daylight." He spread his arm around, showcasing Times Square. "So in the meantime...we should go over to that McDonalds on Broadway- the one that's got the doorman and the piano player."

Sam sighed, hoping his brother was right about Jonas. Jonas McIntire had been one of John Winchester's friends, a good friend, actually, which was rare for Sam's dad. And he was good at what he did...until a few years ago, when something in him snapped (_Not surprising_, Sam thought_, considering everything we see on a daily basis_).

As he raced to catch up with his brother, Sam hoped that Jonas would be more on the ball tonight and maybe go after something that was actually evil.

And not something human.

* * *

The entire CSI team, Don Flack and Jessica Angell were crowded into Interrogation 3 at the precinct. And they were all staring at Mick St. John and Josef Kostan-with varying degrees of surprise and shock on their faces (about a one for Danny, about an eleven for Angell).

Finally, Mick couldn't take it anymore. "All right, you people are way too damned calm to have just discovered that vampires walk the earth in broad daylight."

Next to him, he felt Josef tense. "Josef, they _know_ about us, I'm not telling them anything they obviously don't already know."

"Some of them, anyway," Josef noted with a smirk as he grinned at Angell. "Take it easy honey, I don't bite...much."

Angell's eyes widened farther.

"We've had some experience with the supernatural before," Lindsay offered.

"Such as?" Mick asked, truly interested. Josef leaned back in his chair and slouched, wanting to be _anywhere_ but here.

Mac gave them a quick sketch of their fight with Dalon Gareth and his group of vampires, and then with their investigation into the Harbinger Institute. Mick nodded. "Impressive."

"Yeah, well, now it's your turn," Danny said. And as he waited for an answer, something in his head finally clicked. _That's the guy in my vision...the one with Lindsay_! "What are you doin' here?" he asked, attempting to regain his composure...until he realized that Lindsay and Mac had _both_ seen his reaction. He felt Lindsay squeeze his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she was concerned. _Damn. I've got some explaining to do..._

Mick looked at Josef. Josef kept his mouth shut. The words, _You're On Your Own_ were unspoken. Mick sighed, realizing that Josef wasn't going to be social...or any help at all.

Typical. So Mick was the one who gave the details on Sarah Whitley and Josef. "But at the airport...whoever was after Josef killed a human. One of Josef's employees. At first we thought he was after simply vampires..."

"The way he came after me," Josef cut in, to Mick's surprise, "I was sure he was professional. It's not the first time someone's tried to kill me, but he's the only one that's gotten that close."

Mick raised an eyebrow. "Well, there was the paid assassin," he argued.

"But after he killed Jenessa," Josef continued with a death glare at Mick, "and the fact that he thought Sarah was one of us..."

"He's not just after vampires," Stella finished.

Josef looked annoyed at her cutting in, but finally nodded contritely. "Exactly."

"You think the same guy the Winchesters are chasin' is the one that was after them?" Flack asked the group.

Mick turned to Flack in surprise. "The Winchesters? As in, Sam and Dean?"

Flack returned the surprised look. "Yeah. You know 'em?"

Mick and Josef exchanged looks. "They're...very good at what they do," Mick replied.

"It's our job to notice when there's a potential threat to our existence," Josef pointed out. "So now can we get on track?"

"I'm not letting you go out and kill a man, not in my city," Mac Taylor told Josef.

Josef raised one eyebrow. "You think you can stop me?" he demanded.

Mac leaned in, right in Josef's face. Mick caught the look of shock that crossed Josef's face- nobody _ever_ challenged Josef Kostan like that. "Probably not," Mac conceded seriously, "but I know a lot of ways to _try_."

Stella and Lindsay exchanged looks.

"Well, now that everyone's up to speed," Mick said, in an attempt to break the tension, "What can you tell us?"

"Your guy's name is Jonas McIntire," Flack explained, but before he could say more, he caught the flash of recognition on Mick St. John's face. "Hey, I saw that."

"Jonas McIntire?" Mick asked for clarification. Mac nodded.

"You know him?" Angell spoke up.

Josef raised his eyebrows, "She speaks!"

She shot him a Look, the tough cop returning. "And she's sassy, too," he said. "You know I have an opening on my staff-"

"Not now," Mick groaned. He turned to Mac and Flack. "McIntire used to live in LA. But I thought we'd taken care of him."

"'Taken care of him'?" Danny asked.

"Vampires dispensing vampire justice," Mick said, echoing words he'd heard before. "He was a threat to our community."

"We've existed for thousands of years," Josef added. "Not gonna let some trigger-happy _Buffy_-wannabe ruin a thousand years of a good thing."

"We're not all killing machines. Sure, there's a few of us," Mick said, "but it's like saying all humans are psychopathic serial killers."

"Like that one," Josef muttered, eyeing Mac from the corner of his eye. Mac Taylor just smiled.

"So how did you 'take care' of Jonas McIntire?" Hawkes asked.

Josef glared at Mick. "Not the way _I_ wanted to," he growled.

Lindsay saw Mick St. John falter. "There were a few that wanted to kill him," Mick admitted. "But…we ended up voting to run him out of LA."

"The other way would've been less messy," Josef said. "And we wouldn't be sitting here right now, and Sarah-"

"I _know_ Josef," Mick barked. "Yes, it would've been easier for the Cleaner to step in."

"The Cleaner?" Stella asked.

"I'll explain later," Mick said. "Let's just say there's usually a reason there's never any vampire deaths on the news. We take care of our own."

"Mick here thought Jonas wasn't a threat. Even though he'd killed ten of us without asking any questions or no remorse."

"And later you found out he was," Danny said. _Great. Vampires grow a heart and now Lindsay is in danger because of some sicko_. He squeezed Lindsay's hand, felt her squeeze back in reassurance.

"In LA he was only killing vampires. We ran him out of town, told him if he came back we'd scatter pieces of him all over California," Mick explained.

"So he moved on," Hawkes said.

"And started killing vampires elsewhere," Mac finished.

"Apparently, not just vampires anymore," Mick said. "Humans, too. Something inside him probably finally snapped."

"The Winchesters said he used to be a professional hunter," Stella said. "What would've made him snap like that?"

"The sight of three hundred vampires 'vamped out'," Mick suggested. "First time we'd ever gotten the entire vampire population of LA in the same place. He's probably seeing vampires everywhere."

Stella and Mac exchanged looks. "And now he's loose in my city," Mac said. "And seeing 'vampires' in innocent people."

* * *


	6. Best Laid Plans

**CHAPTER SIX: Best Laid Plans**

"What do you think of green?"

Stella wrinkled her nose. "Not my favorite," she admitted. "But I bet you and Jess would look okay in it."

"Well, what were you and Flack thinking of for colors?" Lindsay asked her. The two sat in a bridal boutique on 5th Avenue. Jessica was in the dressing room.

"Blue," Stella said.

"As in 'NYPD' blue?" Jess's voice called from the door. "Ouch…got the zipper there…"

"No!" Stella grinned. "As much as I'd love to see Flack in uniform for it, I don't think it's gonna happen."

"Too bad," Jess replied. "Okay." She came out of the dressing room. "What about this one?" She turned to Lindsay. "Something you'd wear?"

Lindsay cocked her head to one side as she studied it. "I like the halter," she admitted. "But not the skirt. It looks like someone took the upholstery off a couch."

Jess glanced down, and narrowed her eyes. "Yipe. I agree. Okay, next selection." She walked backwards into the dressing room.

"I can't wait," Lindsay said to Stella, turning her friend's hand over to look at the ring Flack had gotten her. "You're going to look awesome."

Stella chuckled. "Please. I probably won't even be able to make it up the aisle."

Lindsay laughed. "I'll tell Danny to tell Flack to make sure he keeps eye contact with you at all times."

"Actually, I meant that I'll probably trip over the dress," Stella replied with a grin.

The dressing room door opened, and Stella's young roommate stepped out again. "What do you think?" she asked them.

The two older women studied the teen's dress. Simple, strapless, A-line, with a ribbon around the waist in a complimentary color. "That's the one," Stella said. "It'll look good on the both of you and Angell."

Lindsay snapped a couple pictures of the dress with her phone to show Jess Angell later. "I like that one a lot," she agreed. "Jess, what do you think?"

"I like!" the younger woman pronounced.

Stella mentally checked bridesmaid dresses off her checklist. Things were falling into place quite nicely. She checked her watch. "Okay, you two need to get sized for that dress. And then we have to go. I have dinner plans."

"Sounds like cold cuts for me," Jess teased from the dressing room.

"Actually, our plans include you, kiddo," Stella called to her. "So hurry up!"

Lindsay heard her phone ring from her purse. She pulled it out. "I'll call in my measurements, Stel, I need to go."

"That your hubby?" Stella asked in a low whisper. Lindsay nodded. "Okay. Go on, I'll talk to you later."

"You better, I want to hear all about dinner!" Lindsay replied. She shouldered her purse and said goodbye to Jess through the dressing room door as she flipped open her phone and dialed a familiar number. She stepped onto the sidewalk and went to hail a cab. "Danny?....Hey, it's me, I'm just grabbing a cab, I'll see you in-"

A hand grabbed her shoulder. Lindsay dropped her phone.

* * *

Across town, Danny Messer had already hung up his phone and was shrugging into his motorcycle jacket. He glanced outside, saw it was getting dark. _Not good._

And knew if he didn't hurry…

* * *

"Guy that runs the Bates Motel says he's pretty sure Jonas is stayin' here," Dean Winchester said, nodding to the burned-out neon sign that read "HO-E-"

"It's dark, he'll be on the hunt," Sam said, looking around, listening to the sounds of the city.

"I persuaded the mama's boy at the front desk to give up his room number," Dean said. "Maybe we can get an idea of where he might be going."

"Or who he might be after," Sam added, following his brother up the staircase and up to room 9. Dean pulled out his lock pick, and Sam raised an eyebrow. "You got the room number but couldn't charm a key out of him?"

"He's not my type," Dean shot back as the lock jimmied open.

Sam grinned. "You're losing your touch," he said as they stepped into the room. Sam's eyes widened as his eye caught a display on the wall. "Well, we don't know where he's at," Dean said, as he took one of the pictures off the wall, "but we know _who_ he's going after."

"Dean, isn't that-"

"You still have Rent-A-Cop's phone number?"

* * *

Lindsay instantly went on the defensive, bringing her other arm up to elbow her assailant in the face, but he caught her arm easily, and gently set it down. "Sorry," he apologized.

Lindsay turned to see Mick St. John holding her arm. "Mick," she said. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," he said again. "I couldn't tell if it was you, and I sorta forgot your name."

"Lindsay Messer," she said.

"Ah," he replied. "The guy with the glasses, must be the Mister?"

"Danny," she clarified.

"Yeah. So…what're you doin' out here?"

"Hailing a cab so I can get home," she said. "What about you?"

"On the hunt for Jonas McIntire," Mick replied. "I couldn't get Josef to come with."

"Not all that surprising, considering the way he was acting earlier," Lindsay said with a smile. "He strikes me more as the glass of Scotch and a hot woman type."

Mick grinned. "No wonder you're a detec-"

Just then, Mick caught the sound of a heartbeat. A familiar one. There were maybe thirty people on either side of the street and about ten in the cars stopped at the red light, but he knew this one.

"What?" Lindsay asked. Mick held up a hand, glancing around the streets. Jonas was close by…but he couldn't see him.

"We need to get off the street," Mick muttered.

* * *

Don Flack grinned as his two favorite girls stepped into the restaurant. Stella wore a knee-length black skirt and a black top with heels, while Jessica wore her hair in chopsticks, with a blue halter top and gray floor-length skirt. "Every guy in the room is jealous right now," he told them as he pulled out his fiancee's chair.

Stella smiled, and Jess blushed. "There's a fair number of ladies staring too," Jess pointed out.

"Jealous again," Flack said smoothly as he helped Jess into her chair. "Jess, I hope you don't mind hanging out with us old fogies for a couple hours."

"You kidding me?" the teen teased. "I get to get dressed up, go out on the town, have dinner with a hot cop _and_ I get free food. Can't beat that deal."

Flack smiled. "I haven't had much time to spend with you ladies since we started this case, so I'm glad this worked out tonight."

"Well, there _was_ that ten minutes or so in the lab," Stella offered. "Speaking of…Jess, I saw you met Adam."

"Oh, the guy with the iPod? Yeah, he's cute."

Flack's jaw dropped.

* * *

Danny was on his motorcycle with his eyes closed. Granted, not usually the safest maneuver, but he was trying to recall landmarks in his vision, something that could narrow down his search for Lindsay and Mick. Last he'd heard, Lindsay was on Fifth Avenue with Stella and Jess, so he started there.

A cab honked at him, but Danny ignored him as he weaved through traffic.

* * *

"Come on," Mick whispered, gently grabbing Lindsay's arm and tugging her forward. "We need to get off the main street." He led her around a corner…and heard the heartbeat getting more pronounced. _Damn it, it's all the damn people_…He'd screwed up.

"What?" Lindsay demanded, feeling him tense up. _Something's not right_.

* * *

Danny slammed on the brakes. Up ahead, he saw lights for a pawn shop. The gaudy blinking neon sign stuck out like a sore thumb…but was exactly the way he'd seen it in his vision. He parked his bike, left it idle, and took off down the sidewalk. He knew exactly where he was going now…he just hoped he got there in time.

* * *

A figure slid out of the shadow, blocking the way back to the street. Mick instinctively stepped in front of Lindsay. "Jonas. You don't want to hurt her. She's human."

"And yet she's being protected by you, _vampire_," Jonas McIntire hissed. He was a sight to behold, standing six foot two, with a buzz cut and cargo pants. A silver knife glinted from his belt, and he was aiming a crossbow at the two of them. Mick caught the wild look in his eyes-he definitely was out of contact with the real world. "Which makes her just as bad."

Mick's eyes glazed over white, and his canines extended. He could take Jonas, but not before he probably got a shot off…and the guy had good aim, and Lindsay wasn't immortal.

Then a voice yelled from the street. "Lindsay!"

A shot rang out.


	7. The Craziness is Just Getting Started

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI:NY" they belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. The characters of "Supernatural" are property of Eric Kripke. Mick St. John, Sarah Whitley and Josef Kostan appear courtesy Trevor Munson, Ron Koslow and CBS.**

**Author's Note: Sorrysorrysorry for the wait.**

**CHAPTER 7: The Craziness is Just Getting Started.**

Danny skidded around the corner, fear and panic etched on his face and in his heart. _These damned visions….they're no damned help at all_…_if my wife_-

Funny how he embraced the visions one moment and cursed them the next.

He blinked. It was just like in his vision. Lindsay and that Mick guy stood in front of him, his line of sight blocked by Jonas McIntire, whose hands were at his side. Jonas turned, saw Danny there.

"Danny!" Lindsay yelled, seeing the look on his face.

Jonas lurched forward toward Danny, his hand itching to bring the crossbow back up. "You…" Jonas whispered.

Another shot rang out from the street. Jonas staggered…and slowly slumped to the ground.

From behind Mick and Lindsay, Sam Winchester put his pistol down, the barrel smoking. His brother stood next to him, looking utterly proud of his little brother. "Damn, Sammy," Dean whistled. "Flair for the dramatic, much?"

"That wasn't drama," Sam said quietly. He'd just shot a person. A flesh and blood human. Nothing supernatural about him.

Danny stepped over Jonas's body and ran to his wife. Lindsay threw her arms around him. The two kissed passionately, each well aware of how close they'd come to losing each other. Danny held her face in his hands, the same gesture from years ago, at Mosi Ghedi's apartment…the sick feeling in his gut was exactly the same.

"You saw this...?" Lindsay asked him.

He nodded. "That's what I was going to tell you tonight," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"You're here...and I'm in one piece," Lindsay said. "You saved me again."

* * *

Mick looked back at the two hunters. "So you're the Winchester brothers." It wasn't a question.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Our reputation precedes us?"

Mick only grinned. "Nice to finally meet you."

"How do you know who we are?" Sam asked.

Mick smiled wider. "Let's just say we run in some of the same circles," he said. He looked over at the unbreathing Jonas.

"I bet these guys are gettin' real sick of cleaning up our messes," Sam noted.

"You should help those two come up with a story," Mick suggested. "I can take care of him."

"We don't even know who you are!" Dean protested.

Mick turned to the oldest brother…and growled.

"Holy-!" Dean recoiled, wishing he'd brought the silver bullets with.

"Relax," a new voice said. Josef Kostan leapt from the fire escape and into the dirt, wincing as his shoes instantly became covered with the filth of the alley. "Or we'll kill you both too, saves us on witnesses."

"Good vampires," Sam murmured, thinking back.

"This city sucks," Dean declared.

* * *

Josef turned to Mick. "It's over?"

Mick nodded. "It's over." He looked at his friend. "Will you bring Sarah back here?"

Josef shook his head. "No. I think she's safer in Los Angeles with me. Plus, she's closer…saves me on air mileage."

"Ever the romantic," Mick teased.

"I need to go home," Josef whined. "The food is better in Los Angeles."

* * *

_New York Crime Lab_

_A Few Days Later…_

Mac Taylor hated lying on his reports. But between the Winchester brothers, Mick St. John and Josef Kostan, they had come up with a passable response to Jonas McIntire's death.

Flack was standing outside the precinct in front of the '67 Impala. "I'm impressed that nobody's turned this thing into a chop shop," he admitted to Dean Winchester.

"It is a criminal's wet dream," Dean grinned. "You should see what's in the trunk."

Flack held up a hand. "No way. The less I know, the less I gotta testify to later."

Dean was grinning.

"The hell you grinnin' for?" Flack demanded.

Dean sighed. "We saved your ass. Again." He laughed. "I oughta be keepin' points."

Flack rolled his eyes. "You're still standin' on the other side of jail time," he threw back. "I oughta be keepin' points." He shook his head. "Even most of the junkies I busted know better than to come back and keep pissin' me off."

Dean gave him that one. "You're welcome!" he tossed back as his brother came out of the precinct.

Sam turned to Flack. Flack saw it in his eyes. The agony that came with shooting someone. "It gets easier," he told him.

Sam nodded. "I know," he said simply. He held out a hand, and Flack shook it. "Now you can come back to my city any time," he told the youngest brother. Sam smiled as he climbed into the classic car.

Dean revved the engine. "And you can stay the hell out!" Flack yelled over the roar as the oldest brother peeled the car into traffic.

He swore he heard Dean Winchester laughing hysterically.

* * *

Stella Bonasera found Lindsay Monroe hunched over in the locker room. "Linds?" she asked curiously. "Are you all right?"

Lindsay shook her head mutely. The past few days, all she'd done was feel sick. It hadn't been affecting her work until today, and as soon as she could stand up straight, she was going to Mac and asking for a few days off.

And then Stella got it. "We're going to have to let out your dress, aren't we?" she asked.

Lindsay nodded again.

"Congratulations, kiddo," Stella told her. "This is huge." Then she frowned. "Does Danny know?"

This time…Lindsay shook her head.

* * *

"Yo, Mrs. Messer…where ya at?" Danny hailed as he stepped through the door of his apartment at five a.m., noticing not for the first time the subtle touches of Lindsay splayed throughout the place. A pair of muddy cowboy boots by the door…the framed photos of their wedding on the TV stand…both of their schedules in colored ink on the fridge.

It felt so right.

But Lindsay hadn't answered him. "Montana?" Danny asked, a hint of concern in his voice. _She's supposed to be home…she took sick leave…I would've _seen_ something if there was something wrong…_

"Here," Lindsay said quietly from the bedroom.

Danny shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving it draped over the kitchen chair as he went down the hallway to their bedroom. He stopped in the doorway.

Lindsay was sitting on the bed. She looked up. "Hi," she said quietly.

"What's wrong?" Danny asked.

"Nothing's wrong…I don't think," she admitted.

"Uh huh, so then why do you look like someone ran over that mutt you love so much out in Big Sky country?" He lifted a strand of hair from her eyes, tucked it behind her ear.

"How do you feel about being a father?" she asked carefully.

Danny's jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. "What?"

"Danny…we're going to have a baby."

Outside, the full moon was on its' last stages. However, apparently the craziness was just getting started.

* * *

**Author's Note: Ugh, not gonna lie but I don't like this finale. But it ended the way it did for a reason. The next CSI:NY story has all sorts of fun- the Flack-Bonasera wedding, Messer baby fun-ness...and probably some kind of evil sub plot that so far is elusive but will make for interesting drama.**


End file.
